Hermionie Granger and the TriWizard Tournament
by Lady Amara
Summary: Just what happens when you take the Goblet of Fire and tell it from Hermionie's point of veiw? I'm not sure, so let's go find out, shall we? Chaos, laughter, romance, worry, studying... all in a good day's work, hmm?
1. The Granger House

Disclaimer: If I owned the Odyssey, I'd be dead. If I were J.K. Rowling, I'd be a millionare. Since I'm not either, well... just read!

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'So saying he turned the horses back through the thick of the battle, and with a cry that rent the air the Trojans and Hector rained their darts after them. Hector shouted to him and said, "Son of Tydeus, the Danaans have done you honour hitherto as regards your place at table, the meals they give you, and the filling of your cup with wine. Hence-forth they will despise you, for you are become no better than a woman. Be off, girl and coward that you are, you shall not scale our walls through any flinching upon my part; neither shall you carry off our wives in your ships, for I shall kill you with my own hand."_

_'The son of Tydeus was in two minds whether or no to turn his horses round again and fight him. Thrice did he doubt, and thrice did Jove thunder from the heights of Ida...'_

Hermionie Granger was so wrapped up in the battle of Troy, as told by Homer in the Iliad, that she did not notice exactly how hard, or how fast she was petting her ginger cat, Crookshanks. The cat, however, made it known to his master - Oh, how he loathed that word! - that she had better get her nose out of that stupid book and Pay More Attention To Your Cat Before You Kill It.

"...in token to the Trojans that he would turn the battle in their favour. Hector then shouted to them and said - OW! Crookshanks, that was my arm!" Hermionie's attention snapped from her book to her wounded limb: The cat had had enough of her running monologue of the Trojan War, which, to Crookshanks, was also being reenacted by Hermionie, upon himself.

Hermionie put down the book - after, of course, marking page 94 with a sheet of parchment from her desk - and looked at her arm. It was bleeding a bit - scratched, not bitten. Even now, the initial flair of pain was vanishing. Easily taken care of. What was bugging the witch was: Why did Crookshanks do that? She stood, her temper flaring the slightest bit. Her cat bounded off her lap and onto the floor a bit noisily, tail twitching in irritation. Why should he be irritated? I'm the one who got hurt! Hermionie huffed angrily.

She stalked out of her room, slammed the door behind her, and headed down the hallway to the bathroom. Men, the most idiotic life forms on the planet... And my whole summer vacation has been like this. The whole ruddy vacation, only Crookshanks and I, no wonder we're loosing our tempers. Hermionie was so deep in her thoughts, in fact, that she didn't realize she was nearly at her parent's door. Just before she passed in sight of the open door, she forced herself to calm down, slow down, and relax. She slipped by, unnoticed by her mother, who was busily typing up an article on the uses of chlorine in the every day home. Closing in on what little distance remained between herself and the bathroom, Hermionie relaxed a bit. The little of the remaining sting of the cuts had vanished, replaced by the dull throb of her blood.

As she gently turned the knob and swung the door open, her mind resumed the set it had been in before passing her parent's room. Summer break. Turn on the hot water. Get a towel from the cabinet under the sink. Her summer break had been completely uneventful. A bit boring, actually. Make sure the water is warm. Good, it is. Put that cloth under the water. The library in her house had been her summer project. After homework, of course. Turn the water off, now. Or better yet, just turn it on slightly. That way it'll stay warm. Put your arm over the sink. The library had been conquered a month into the holidays. This left only the public library, two blocks down.

A small yelp escaped her lips as the cloth touched her wounds. She muffed it immediately, and bit her lip as to prevent another outburst. The sudden flare in her arm was a bit more than she could take, especially since she wasn't thinking about what she was doing. "Now you know," she scolded herself quietly.

"'Mionie, you alright?" Mrs. Granger called from her room. Her voice was a bit faint, considering the distance between her room and the bathroom, not to mention the closed doors in between.

Hermionie opened the door to the bathroom, leaned her head out into the hall, and said, "Yes, mum, just... dropped..." She glanced around for something to name. Her eyes fell on her hair dryer. "...the hair dryer."

There was a slight pause. "Why were you picking up the hair dryer? You haven't taken a shower yet today." Mrs. Granger's head appeared in the hall.

Thinking quickly, Hermionie hid all but her face behind the door, so her body couldn't be seen. 'Dang, she's good,' she thought to herself; aloud, she said: "I was just about to. Take a shower. I wanted to move the hair dryer. So it wouldn't get wet. And I needed to plug it in. So... I wouldn't get shocked. Because, after I got out of the shower, I'd be wet. And if I plugged the dryer in, while I was wet, then I'd get... electrocuted." She hesitated, and barely restrained herself from saying, "...Yeah." at the end. It sounded incredibly fake to her own ears, just a second after she said it.

Apparently, Mrs. Granger thought it was naught more than an excuse, as well. Still, she nodded, and withdrew her head from Hermionie's sight. That was too close, thought the girl, relieved. However, the girl's conscience would not let her just leave the excuse at that. Sighing, Hermionie started the hot water running in the shower. She carefully removed her shirt, trying to skirt around her still-tender arm wounds, and then began taking off all of her other clothes as well.

After checking the temprature, the bushy-haired girl stepped into the tub and closed the curtain. "Bloody hell..." was the only exclimation that came to mind as the hot water ran over her right arm. Quickly lifting that limb out of the stream of water, she began the process of washing her thick tresses.

The relaxing jets coming from the shower head calmed her, allowed her thoughts to browse to things other than her present actions. Drifting lazily across different books she had read, summer days that were warm and sunny, cool nights that had been spent on the back patio with a cup of tea and a letter, usually from Ginny... or Ron... or Harry...

Further back still did her thinking draw her, until she was at the end of term, nearly two months ago now. It seemed so long ago... The summer had spanned longer than it really was, even in her logical mind. Was it only two months ago, that she and Harry had gone back in time, as odd as it may sound.

Really, the whole situation was odd. It all started nearly a year ago, with Sirius Black, mass murderer, had escaped from Azkaban prison, the most heavily guarded prison in the wizarding world. Harry had blown up his aunt to the size of a... oh, what did Harry say? Hmm... he didn't. Well, he blew his aunt up very large. After that he had run away on the Knight Bus, where he learned of Sirius Black's escape, then met the Minister of Magic himself. He then stayed at the Leaky Cauldron for two weeks, along with herself and the Weasly family. It was then Harry heard (by eavesdropping) that Sirius Black was looking for him.

And that was all before school started.

Rampaging hippogriffs, DADA professers who were really his dad's best mates, boggarts, escapees breaking into the castle, fleeing portraits, mysterious Christmas presents, dementors, one of his best mates taking double classes - seemingly being in two places at once -, hippogriff trials, evil Potions professors subbing for kindly DADA teachers, divination, predictions, prophecies, Hogsmede visits, mischeif, magical talking maps, Hermionie punching Malfoy, pet rats who were really Animagi, werewolves, violent trees, secret passageways, shreiking shacks, the Grim, Godfathers, a heck of a lot more dementors, Patroni, cats, rats, dogs, stags, helping convicts escape from the ministry... all in two terms.

Hermionie had never totaled the amount of things that had happened in her head before. Quite literally, she was staggered. Nearly slipped on the tile floor of the shower. She caught herself just in time, however; unfortunately, her right arm fell under the jet of water, and the pain came back. However, it wasn't as bad as she thought it would have been. In a moment or so, she was able to keep her arm under without too much pain; she set about washing the rest of her body.

The scent of lavender filled the air as she un-capped the body wash. It relaxed her just as much as the water had, and soon her thoughts were moving backwards again.

She thought of the cool forest as she and Harry waited for themselves to come back out of the Shreiking Shack; how peaceful it had been, even with the threat of Dementors so nearby. Fear of the werewolf that was soon to come shook the girl even now, two months in the future. And yet, with her closest friend next to her, things hadn't seemed so bad. If only Ron had been there on the other side of her...

Hermionie shook her head. Harry first. As she let her thoughts run across that thread of thought, she realized just how lonely Harry must feel right now. He had brightened so much when he came out of the Shack and began speaking with his Godfather, Sirius. Later, Hermionie realized that the boy had been offered to move out of his lousy Aunt Petunia's house and in with the man who was closest to his parents. No wonder he looked so heartbroken afterwards... and now, still with those awful Muggles...

"Hermionie!" The girl jerked and nearly slipped again, before catching herself on the wall. She realized that she was done with her shower; she turned off the tap. "There's an owl here waiting for you!" Hermionie looked up towards the door at that; who would be sending letters to her? Was it Harry? Ginny? Ron?

Dressing in the clothes she was wearing before in her excitement to see who the letter was from, the bathroom was empty in less than a minute. Hermionie was hopping down the hallway, towel draped over her shoulders in an attempt to keep her shirt dry, while putting on a sock and holding a hair brush in her teeth.

Rebellious sock on her foot, she took the brush out of her mouth and called out, "Who's it from?" There was a slight pause; then her mum's voice rang out from the kitchen.

"I'm not sure if it's an owl at all - looks more like a furry tennis ball. And it keeps running - Ow! - into me..." Rounding the corner, treading on soft carpet now, and running a brush through her hair, the girl barely had enough time to think, let alone duck, as a small grey... thingummy... hit her in the forehead. It flopped down on the floor at her feet, and Hermionie reeled backwards, rubbing her head.

"What the... What is it?" As soon as she wasn't seeing little black specks anymore, Hermionie leaned down to inspect the furry creature. Her mother came over and squatted down next to her.

"I'm... not sure. Is it..." her mum trailed off.

"Dead? I don't think so." There was a slight pause, in which they both stared avidly at the... thing. After a moment, Hermionie shook her head and pointed. "No. It's alive. It's chest is moving." With that, she knelt down, leaned back a bit, and poked it.

It was warm, soft, and a bit fuzzy. She ventured another finger on the thing and found the same result. It stirred a bit, moved, then seemed to sit up. There - it was definately an owl. Tiny, but an owl none-the-less. Hermionie stated so for her mother.

"Are you OK, 'Mionie?" her mother asked, concerned. Hermionie just nodded, all of her attention either on the bird (checking to make sure it was really all right) or wondering whose the owl belonged to. She picked it up, held it at eye level, and turned it so that she could see its legs. There, just barely visible, was a small note tied by a peice of string. Smiling slightly, Hermionie realized, with great triumph, that the owl must be Ron's new pet - the one Sirius sent him. How could she have forgotten the little thing?

"Here, mum, I know whose it is. I'll take him into my room and feed him and such - I have a couple of owl treats that I give Hedwig when she comes by." With that, Hermionie walked out of the room, leaving a very confused person behind her.

The second Hermionie opened the door, all became mass chaos. She was immediately attacked by one Crookshanks, who latched onto her shirt with sharp claws. This, in turn, made her let go of Ron's owl. The owl immediately took off, into the room, and Crookshanks paused in his punishing Hermionie for locking him in her room long enough to watch the owl. The cat lept off of Hermionie, jumped onto the desk (spilling her new bottle of ink), tore over the book shelf (leaving paw prints all over her homework), and lept off her dresser onto the ceiling fan where Ron's owl had decided to inhabit for the moment.

The cat flopped onto Hermionie's bed, screeched, and got himself tangled in pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals as he thrashed about. The owl took off, screeched, and ran into the door (which Hermionie had closed as all of this started). Hermionie winced, picked up the owl and held him in one hand, and examined him. Still alive.

She set the unconcious animal on her dresser, then set about detangeling Crookshanks. It was a difficult task, but soon she was clutching the furry critter and rocking him. Crookshanks eventually settled, though he still switched his tail angrily back and forth.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?"

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A/N: Well, after a long break, Lady Amara lives again! I'm working with hobbits01 to bring you another person's POV on the Goblet of Fire. Hope to have the next chapter up soon! Read and review! Questions? Comments, concerns, they're all excepted... flames are not liked very much. Used to slowly roast Voldie and Peter over an open fire. Nice and crisp. 


	2. Back to the Burrow

Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter. My name is JK Rowling. I do not go to school. I am a millionare. And... I'm posting a story on Riiight. No JK ness here. Don't own it.

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Sitting on her bed, Hermionie carefully unfolded the parchment that was attached to the owl's leg. Crookshanks was settled on the mass of towels he called his bed; the unconscious bird was in Hermionie's lap. Immediately, the girl recognized Ron's messy scrawl. Her heart fluttered for a moment, but it went nearly unnoticed in her haste to read the letter.

_Hermionie, guess what? DAD GOT THE TICKETS! You're coming, right? It's Ireland vs. Bulgaria, Monday night. Mum said you can come over, probably Saturday afternoon, since the game is on Monday. Write back with Pig -_

Hermionie glanced at the fuzzy creature in her lap. It didn't seem like a 'Pig' to her, but if that was the way Ron's mind worked, then Hermionie wasn't going to question it. She stroked the owl and continued reading.

_- and tell when you're coming over. Harry is coming Sunday if the Muggles let him. And if they don't, then we'll have to fetch him. Otherwise, things over here are pretty boring, if you don't count the occasional Percy yelling at the twins because they've turned him into a bird or made his reports disappear..._

_Oh, Ginny says hello. She asked me to write that. And don't give Pig any owl treats. They make him more hyper than he is. _

_See you soon, _

_Ron_

Hermionie folded the letter back up and tossed it onto her desk with a flick of her wrist. Carefully picking up Pig, the girl walked into the hall, then the kitchen, where her mother was baking. The scent that assaulted her nose smelt vaguely of peanut butter mixed with sweetener - apparently, mum was attempting to make a cookie that was not only sugar-free but tasted good, as well. The last few attempts hadn't turned out very fine.

Mind back on the letter she had gotten, Hermionie went up to her mother and waited until there wasn't any chance that an egg wouldn't go flying in her face or something of the sort. Seeing the opportunity, Hermionie went to stand next to her mother and held the mixing bowl for her - one handed, of course, for Pig was still in her left.

"Thanks," said her mum absentmindedly, as she turned her face back to the cook book next to her. Hermionie took a deep breath, let it out, and waited until her mother's attention was back on the stirring.

"Mum?"

Mrs. Granger turned to her daughter, still stirring. "Yes, 'Mionie?"

"I was wondering - Do you remember how I was telling you about the Quidditch World Cup?" Hermionie waited a few moments as her mother stopped stirring and stared at the wall. After a second, Mrs. Granger nodded.

"Has your friend... Ron?" Hermionie nodded, prompting her mother. "Has Ron said if he had gotten the tickets?"

Hermionie smiled and nodded again. "Yes. They're for Monday. He just sent me a letter -"

"Is that owl alright, by the way?" Hermionie sighed, then held up the lump of feathers in her left hand.

"He ran into the door."

"Oh. Energetic little guy, isn't he? Here," she grabbed a towel and wadded it up, then put it on the counter. "Put him on this. That way you can help me shape these cookies." Hermionie obliged and set Pig on the towel, then continued.

"Anyway, Ron just sent me a letter. He said I could come over Saturday; Harry is coming Sunday, and they probably don't want the both of us coming on the same day." Hermionie took some of the dough and shaped it into a ball. "Is... is that alright?" The bushy haired girl frowned as she stared at her mother, who had turned suddenly silent.

A minute or so passed, in which no one spoke: the atmosphere of the kitchen had gone from warm and inviting to oppressive... or maybe it was just Hermionie's nerves getting to her. One couldn't be sure. In any case, the girl was glad that her thoughts could shift to the just-waking owl on the counter.

Pig opened his bleary eyes and looked around. Hermionie thought he looked like a kitten, which reminded her of Crookshanks. Both Pig and Crookshanks reminded her of Ron in the train compartment on the way home, and how Ron had gotten Crookshanks' approval of Pig. Thinking of Ron (besides making her heart beat a little faster for some unknown reason) made her think of Ron's appetite; this made her think of the cookie dough she held in her hand. Putting the dough down reminded her of why she had come into the kitchen in the first place. And thinking of the kitchen forced her into the nervous silence, in which she was unsure of how her mother would handle her going to Ron's house on such short notice.

"Well, you'd better go send that owl back to the Weasleys telling them that you'll be there Saturday afternoon, shouldn't you?" Hermionie looked up happily. Her mother was looking at Pig, but then glanced at her daughter. She smiled after seeing the look on her girl's face. "Run along, now, and you can help me bake later."

"Thank you!" cried Hermionie; she flung her arms around her mom in a sudden moment of affection. Surprised at her normally quiet daughter's action, Mrs. Granger quietly wrapped her arms around her child and put her head into the bushy curls. Hermionie pulled back and started running out of the kitchen, but promptly stopped, turned around, ran back to the counter, grabbed Pig, and then ran off again.

Mrs. Granger shook her head as she watched the bobbing head of her daughter quickly vanish into her room. Turning back to the cookies, the woman shook her head in wonder. Ever since the girl had come back after her first year at that school, she had started opening up. Now...

"Hermionie, you're growing up so fast..." she murmured to herself. She turned to look at the hallway again. For some reason, the mother had the strangest feeling that this was the last time she would see her daughter as the girl she was...

Somehow, in the next year, her Hermionie was going to grow up, and there was nothing the she could do about it.

"Hermionie, are you packed? You're expected at Ron's in ten minutes!" Mr. Granger stood at the edge of the bedroom hallway, dressed and ready to leave just after he saw his daughter to the floo. Already, as he stood here, he had seen Hermionie fly past him six times, searching for some book, or a sheaf of notes, or some other thing that was hardly necessary. 'Women,' thought the man with a smile and a shake of his head

"I can't find Crookshanks, Dad!" Hermionie, however, was far from optimistic. She had thrown herself into a near panic ever since she had woken up this morning - Surely she had packed this? And her trunk was thrown open, all of the contents pulled out, when she realized it was the first thing she had put in. Then she remembered that she had borrowed a book from Lavander last year, and spent at least fifteen minutes searching throughout the house before she realized that her mother had put it on the bed for her. Then, she realized that she didn't need _that_ sheaf of parchment that she had put in last night; out came everything, then back in as she pulled out the faulty papers.

Now, when she _finally_ felt ready, that ruddy _cat_ had to go hide himself in some place that she wouldn't find until _he_ felt like it, and it was driving her absoloutly _mad_, because she couldn't leave _without_ her cat, even though he _hated_ traveling by floo...

"Arugh!" With that final cry of frustration, she threw herself onto her trunk and sat there, stubbornly unmoving. _Why_ she felt that sitting on her trunk and therefore probably causing herself to be late, which was her own problem, felt so like a triumph was beyond her mind at the moment. Indeed, all she could think of how she _hated_ that cat sometimes, how Ron was always right about him, and how she had never listened. If she had been able to detatch herself and look at her thoughts, Hermionie would have realized how close to an emotional breakdown she was. But since she couldn't, she sulked instead.

Crookshanks was a very smart cat, by all means. He knew that coming to his Hermy right now would mean no supper for such a long time. But he also remembered the red-haired woman who always fed him the best food, and apparently, to that woman's house was where they would be traveling, he didn't want to miss out on this trip, either. What a to-do, what a to-do, thought the cat sadly.

Deciding that he could get supper from the nice woman, even if Hermy didn't want him to, Crookshanks decided to make his grand apperance. Leaping gracefully as only a cat can do, he found himself on the counter in the kitchen. Seeing fresh-baked cookies just a few steps away, the cat took one in his mouth for Hermy, in hopes of a peace offering. He then trotted down the hallway, past Hermy's father, and into Hermy's den.

What Crookshanks didn't know was that his Hermy was not paying any attention her door and was, rather, off in her own little world sulking. Seeing this put the cat's plans out of action for a moment, until he thought up a better one then before - being cute. His Hermy always loved it when he was cute. Even though there was nothing more that Crookshanks despised than being - ugh - _cute_, he would suffer through his pain, for his Hermy.

Hermionie jerked when she felt something warm against her jean leg. Looking down, she saw nothing other than her _cat_. He was rubbing against her ankle, nudging her foot with his head, purring, and acting as if he were saying, "Look at me - I'm cute and cuddly and I know it." He turned his squashed face up to her, and her heart mealted into a gooy mush like the cat food she fed him. Hermioinie gave a little smile, picked him up, and put her face in his fur.

Crookshanks, after allowing this to go on as long as he could, struggled for a moment. When Hermionie let him go, he jumped down, picked up the cookie, stood on his hind legs, and placed it on her lap. He stayed there and mew-ed once. Taking this as a signal, the girl slowly picked up the cookie, broke it in half, and nibbled. Not half bad. Actually, pretty good. Mind working better now that she was back to her normal self, she smiled and petted her cat. "Thanks, Crookshanks." The cat mew-ed again.

"Hermionie, it's one o'clock! You'd better get over there," her father called from the end of the hall.

Standing, Hermionie picked up Crookshanks and put him in his carrier, followed by the half-eaten cookie. "Coming!" She grabbed the handle of her trunk and wheeled it out of her room, then turned, looked in one last time, and flicked off the lights. Making sure her wand was in her front pocket where she had put it last, the girl headed off into the den.

Her parents were standing there, waiting for her. "Have you got everything?" her mother asked as she came forward.

Hermionie nodded. "I've spent the last hour making sure, mum."

Mrs. Granger smiled. She stood there, looking at her daughter for a moment, then grabbed her in a feirce embrace. "I love you, honey. Don't forget that."

The girl could hear how much her mother meant those words. Tears stung her eyes and she grabbed her mum just as feircely. "I love you, too." They pulled apart after a moment, and stood at arm's length.

"Promise you'll write whenever you can?"

"Of course I will."

Her father picked up her trunk and carrier and set them next to the fireplace. Turning, he smiled at his only daughter and gave her a quick hug. "Take care, sweetie. Be good and don't get into too much trouble." Hermionie smiled at her father, then at her mother as she said, "Yes. I don't want a letter from the Headmaster saying that you were Petrified or something of the sort..."

Now Hermionie was grinning broadly. "I promise I won't get Petrified or something of the sort." The family stood there for a few moments, when Mr. Granger's watch beeped once. Definately the time to get going - he set his watch ten minutes fast, that ment that it was five past one. Hugging each of her parents once more and giving a final promise to write often, Hermionie threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace.

Her father helped her get her trunk into the green-glowing hearth, and she picked up Crookshank's carrier with the arm that was not holding the trunk's handle. Smiling at her parents one last time, she shouted clearly, "The Burrow!" and was gone in a whirl of flames.

It was all a whirl of color and soot and fire; the girl quickly closed her eyes and pulled her elbows closer to her body. Crookshanks was hissing and tumbling about in the carrier, and Hermionie was afraid that she would loose her grip on the handle. The spinning was going faster and faster, now: if it weren't magicked, she would probably have fallen over; instead, she was hanging onto the two things in her hands for dear life.

Presently, she found she was slowing down - and quickly loosing what little balance she had. The second the world stopped spinning she toppled over and the carrier flew out of her hands. Her hold on the trunk had been just about non-existant when she had gotten into the Weasly hearth - now, it was on top of her as she lay prostrate on the floor.

"Ow." It came out as a muffed sound, since her face was on its side and smushed between the floor and some unknown object that seemed to have fallen on her when she ran into the something that was making her head throb. It felt warm, whatever it was...

The warm object on her face hooted once, and Hermionie couldn't help the shreik that came after. Immediatly, there was a scraping of benches above her. "Oh, hellu there. You must be Hermionie." The voice was warm, but strange. Immediatly the owl on her face was removed, and she was allowed the ability to see the speaker - or rather, his shoes. They walked away, but not before she recognised that they were made of dragon hide. Slowly lifting her head, Hermionie looked over to the stranger and saw that he was, indeed, a red-head... and a rather handsome one, at that. Either Bill or Charlie, she thought to herself. Taking in the tied-back hair, fang earring, and punk-rocker type clothes, Hermionie deduced that it was Bill, the curse breaker who worked in Egypt and at Gringotts.

Bill turned from Errol's stand (Errol was laying there, barely moving) and smiled at Hermionie. She blushed at her predicament, and at the attention she was receiving from the good looking - Oh, stop it, she told herself. It's Ron's brother! Bill grabbed the handle of the trunk and heaved it easily off Hermionie, then reached down for her hand. Taking it gladly, Hermionie pulled herself off the floor.

"There you go. Bit of a rough landing, first time around... I take it this was your first time flooing?" Hermionie blushed and ducked her head.

"Third, actually."

"Ah." Hermionie looked up at him again - he was looking out the window. She followed his gaze to a bright green lawn, on which quite a few people were running about, tackling each other and tossing what looked to be a bunch of sacks around. Suddenly, Bill's attention went back to Hermionie. "I'm sorry. Name's Bill. You are Hermionie, right?"

The girl looked up and quickly nodded; she had forgotted introductions. So, apparaently, had Bill. Silence decended upon the kitchen again, and both looked back out the window. There were... five people out in the garden. Five people and... A streak of orange fur shot from underneath the window out to where the people were. She knew that streak well...

"Crookshanks?" Turning around, Hermionie realized that the carrier must have opened with the fall - it was now laying, empty, and the door leading into the garden was slightly ajar. Forgetting her trunk, the fact that she had never been here before, and that Bill was still in the kitchen, Hermionie ran into the garden after her cat.

All activity had stopped when the cat came out - suddenly, Ginny let out a cry. "Hermionie's here!" and promptly went towards the house at a full sprint. She was nearly to the door when Hermionie came out, and both crashed head-on into each other. Hermionie fell for the second time that day. Ron, who had started towards the house just after Ginny, tripped over the two girls and fell on top of them; the twins, being the twins, hurled themselves on top of Ron without any pretense at all.

"Hello, Hermionie!" George said cheerfully as he laid on top of the pile that was twisting and squirming under him.

"Fancy meeting you here!" Fred was laying face down on the pile and pretended to be suprised when he found his face inches from Hermionie's.

"Erm." It was more of a statement, Hermionie thought afterwards. 'Erm' can be used in almost any sitiuation, to a great extent.

So thought Fred. "Erm," he said wisely, nodding his head in mock-seriousness.

"There is a cat on my stomach," stated George as he stroked Crookshanks.

"Would you get off?" Ron cried- he was on top of Hermionie, and it was rather embaressing - also, Ginny's hip was in a rather uncomfortable place...

"Please do, Fred, George, or I will be forced to hex you three ways to Saturday." Ginny sounded very calm... calm before the storm, really, because she was turning a bright red.

"Erm," Hermionie stated again. Ron was laying on top of her, Fred's face was inches from her own, George was having what seemed to be an incredibly intelligent conversation with Crookshanks, and Ginny was about to explode, as Bill and Charlie were laughing their heads off.

This, as the fates would have it, was how Molly Weasly found her offspring and one very embaressed Hermionie Granger. "Erm," was all she could say.

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A/N: Another chappie, another day! Updates won't be one after the other like this normally, since I'm going to be kinda busy today, but I'll still post often! For those who were wondering, this is going to be completly cannon, which means Hermionie/Krum, with a bit of R/Hr. Which I support. Thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers! Cookies to all! (:.) Comments are greatly appreciated! 


	3. Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes I

**Disclaimer: I am no Jo.**

**A/N: Here's chappy 3, after a long (and quite pointless) delay! Enjoy, review, or read! Hope you like! Oh, and many thanks to my reviewers, Fallenstar127, Hobbits01, and A. Lynn the Poet! Also, thanks to Hobbits01 again for getting my butt into motion and forcing me to update. ;)****

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Ch. 3: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, part I

It was all-out chaos until about two in the afternoon. Then it all became organized chaos. Ron was slowly limping back to his room, dodging the random paper airplane coming from the twins' room with a practiced ease. Crookshanks was napping on the sofa. Ginny and Hermionie had just gotten the luggage into Ginny's room - Bill and Charlie were battling potato bugs in the middle of the stair and wouldn't let the girls through until they stated the correct password ('Bugging You'), which took about half an hour. Half an hour and threats of the Bat Boogie Hex until kingdom come.

Percy was no where to be seen. Mrs. Weasly, after a full blown lecture to her other children that lasted fifteen minutes, went up to check on her son. She left a few minutes later, grumbling about cauldrons and how they had apparently eaten her son.

As Hermionie flopped onto Ginny's bed, an explosion was heard from across the hall.

Hermionie sat up again immediately, a frightened expressioin on her face. "What was that?"

Ginny was not in the slightest worried. "Just the twins figuring out some prank or another." She shrugged before going back to tidying her room.

A few minutes of silence later, Ginny gave up her room as a lost cause and flopped down next to Hermionie. "So... How's life?"

Hermionie shrugged. "Same as always. You?"

Ginny shrugged, as well. "Same."

Another long scilence.

"Read any good books?"

"Nope. They'd get burned by Gred and Forge if they saw me with one."

Hermionie winced, and made a mental note not to keep any of her own books in reach of the twins.

A few more minutes passed.

Ginny sighed. "Well, isn't this fun?"

Hermionie sighed, too. "Yep."

Ginny rolled over onto her side, facing Hermionie. "I was being sarcastic, you know."

Hermionie continued staring at the ceiling. "Yes, I know. I was agreeing with your sarcasim."

Ginny nodded. "Oh. Ok."

Yet another moment of quiet.

"Hermionie?"

"Yes?"

"Do you like Ron?"

Hermionie blinked once, twice, than sat up, blushing. "No! He's an annoying prat! We're just friends! I couldn't like him, it'd be too weird, and anyway, he never does any of his schoolwork, and..." She trailed off, realizing at the same moment as Ginny that she was rambling.

"Really, now." Ginny sat up, as well, and smirked.

Hermionie nodded quickly. 'I'd better not say anything and dig myself in a deeper hole than before,' her mind told her. Hermionie agreed.

Deciding to change the subject, she instead said: "So, what is Percy up to?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, picking up the new subject just as happily as she had with the subject of Ron.

"He's holed himself up in his room, writing reports about cauldron bottoms for his new job at the Ministry. Honestly, don't ask him about it, all you'll get -" here she screwed up her face into an expression that Hermionie had seen on Ron's face as he talked about the Chudly Cannons "- _But Mr. Crouch said... and I told Mr. Crouch... Oh, but Mr. Crouch's opinion on that subject... And then Mr. Crouch did... But you wouldn't believe what Mr. Crouch though of... Mr. Crouch, Mr. Crouch, Mr. Crouch!" _Ginny, keeping the same facial expression, but adding a bit more love and adoration to it, she jumped off the bed, knelt upon one knee, and said in a high, girly voice: "_Oh, Mr. Crouch, I love you so much, I want to marry you!"_

Ginny's impression of the stuck-up, horned-rimmed glassed, overly-obsessive Weasly was so odd, and yet so similar to what Hermionie thought Percy would act like, it was hilarious. Hermionie cracked up, laughing so hard she nearly fell off the bed. Ginny soon followed suite, giggling madly on the floor.

As the last shakes of laughter subsided, the discomfort in the room eased. Hermionie hopped off the bed to join Ginny on the floor, talking about this and that and that other thing. Soon they were in school-girl mode, talking about boys and classes and quidditch.

So quickly did the time pass, that it took the both of them by suprise when Mrs. Weasly called everyone to dinner from downstairs.

"Already?" Hermionie got up from the floor, stretched, and scooped up Crookshanks. The cat had joined them somewhere in the middle of their talking and had fallen asleep almost instantly.

Ginny stood also, and looked out her window. The sun was just above the tree-tops. "Apparently so. Must be nearly six o'clock!"

They moved out to the hall. "That was fast," Hermionie stated.

Ginny was about to agree when the twins burst from their room, crashed into the two girls, and caused them to run into the wall about two paces from the top of the stairs.

Next second, George was lying next to Hermionie, whilst Fred and Ginny were at the bottom of the stairs, sore and (in Ginny's case) quite upset. Ron ran down the hallway from his staircase and nearly ran into Percy's door, which had just opened. Quickly stopping, he lost his balance and fell on his rear. Percy, suprised, looked behind the door, spotted his brother, and then walked out of his room.

All eyes turned to Percy as he walked down the hallway, stepped around Hermionie and George, walked down the stairs, and lept over Ginny and Fred, all in a very prim manner. Ron got up next, followed by George. Both offered a hand to help Hermionie, but she sprang up and darted down the steps to Ginny and Fred.

"Ow." Fred just nodded his agreement.

"Sorry 'bout that," George apologised to Hermionie and Ginny.

"Yeah, didn't mean to run you over," Fred said sorrowfully.

"We were hoping to barge into Percy's room," continued George,

"but we took a wrong turn,"

"and barged into you instead." Both the twins shrugged before heading outside.

Ron, Hermioinie, and Ginny stared at the retreating twins before turning to each other.

Ron's voice was squeaky in his disbelief. "Did they just apologise to us?"

Ginny's eyebrows were nearly to her hair, then furrowed in confusion. "I... I think they did."

"Wow." Both red heads nodded in agreement to Hermionie's statement.

Bill poked his head through the doorframe leading to the garden. "You guys coming? We're waiting for you."

Ron perked up immediately at the prospect of food, and took off through the door. Ginny and Hermionie turned to each other, shook their heads, and followed at a more sedate pace.

* * *

"Oy, you two, Mum says get up!" Hermionie woke with a jerk to Fred's pounding on the door. Moaning slightly, she rolled over in bed... 

...only to fall off.

"Ow! Urg..." Slowly untangling herself from the sheets that were wrapped around her body, Hermionie could hear Ginny slowly sit up on the other side of bed.

"Mahumafaf..." she stated in the general direction of the door.

"Ok, Gin, I'll tell Harry of your undying love for him..."

"WHAT? Is he here already?" Ginny flew off the bed in a panic. "He wasn't supposed to come until this afternoon! Gred, or Forge, or Whoever you are, if you do that -"

"Ginnykins, I was just kidding!" Fred poked his head into the room. "Don't hex me!" Ginny blinked once, before her expression changed from panicked to angry. Hermionie stood up from behind the bed.

Fred ducked out of the room before something was thrown at him. Closing the door, there was a breif pause, then the aforementioned door was opened again.

"Nice hair, 'Mionie-winey. I think Crookshanks got lost in it." Hermionie threw the nearest object, her shoe, at the door. It crashed into the wood framing, where Fred's head would have been, had he not withdrawn it.

"Urg. I am going to hex him three ways from Tuesday once we get to school..." Grumbling, Ginny rummaged through one of her drawars, tossing random articles of clothing over her head and onto her bed.

Hermionie fumed as she dug through her trunk, pulling out clothes as well as shampoo, body wash, and a brush. She knew her hair was a mess, it always was, but why did Fred have to be so cruel about it? So what, it was a bit bushy, but that was normal, wasn't it? 'I mean,' she thought, 'it's not as if it's flying about in every direction like it was in first year.'

"Hermionie, don't listen to Fred, he's just an annoying prat." Turning to look at her friend, Ginny spotted the bathing implements in the girl's arms. "You need to shower? Best to do that before breakfast, after that is when all the boys jump in. No hot water what-so-ever." Ginny turned to another drawer for socks. "Towel closet is on the right, three doors down on the left side. Bathroom is right across from there." Hermionie nodded her thanks, pulled on her bath robe, and went to open the door.

"Oh, and Hermionie?" Hermionie turned to Ginny again. "Be sure to lock the door. There's no privacy in this house, though I do hope the boys will have some respect for guests..."

Hermionie nodded agiain, blushing a bit at the thought of Bill walking in on her shower...

One hour, many episodes of room-trading (mainly between the bathroom and bedroom), and quite a bit of painful hair-brushing later, Hermionie and Ginny were fully awake and ready for the world. Walking out of Ginny's bedroom together, the girls headed downstairs to breakfast.

Their quest for food ended with eggs, sausage, and an odd kind of hash that did not look very appealing, but, in support of Mrs. Weasly, tasted quite good. After putting their dishes in the sink and thanking Mrs. Weasly for the delicious meal ("Oh, it was nothing, but I'm glad you enjoyed it. There's pleny more!" "Oh, I couldn't eat another bite, Mrs. Weasly, I'm stuffed!"), the girls set off to explore the lands of their kingdom.

In other words, they went back to Ginny's room and set about getting to know each other better.

"So, what's your favorite subject," one would start, and the other would reply, "Care of Magical Creatures" or "Arithmacy," depending on the person. Then the topic of books came up; "Honestly, and don't laugh, I'm rather fond of Muggle romances," and "Oh, no, I've read those, and they're quite good, but I enjoy a good mystery novel better," followed by a suprised exclimation and "I thought you only read research books!"

Hermionie laughed. "Of course not. I love mysteries - they get you thinking. Dramas are good, as well, and if there's a good one, then an adventure novel is just as wonderful."

Ginny grinned, liking this new side of Hermionie she was seeing. Hermionie, as well, was happy to have made a friend in one Ginny Weasly - she was a nice girl, not overly obsessed with boys or clothes like the other girls in her dorm were. The kind of girl that made you happy just by being around her.

They went on talking, learning that Ginny was actually quite fond of all of her brothers and Hermionie was secretly afraid of Snape, giant plants, and mushrooms.

"Mushrooms?"

"Yes. You see, when I was five, I loved mushrooms. But one day, after dinner, which had mushrooms in it, I got sick with the flu and... well, I saw the mushrooms I had eaten earlier. Then, a year after, I was playing with my dog in our back yard, and he ate mushrooms that were just growing there, and he died two days after. The vet said it was because of mushroom poisening."

"Oh. That's really sad, and... I didn't know people could be afraid of food, but that makes sense." Ginny said; after, of course, Hermionie explained what a vet was.

A bit later, Hermionie asked what Fred and George were up to.

"They're talking of starting a shop - Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes - it's a prank shop. I don't think they're going to get anywhere with it, though, because Mum found a stack of parchments; order forms, with a huge list of stuff they've invented. Mum was furious... None of us knew they were actually inventing. We thought all of those bangs and things were just because the twins liked making the sound."

"They've been _inventing_ pranks?"

"Yeah. Probably going to be selling stuff once they get to school. I'm suprised they haven't sent owls out to kids already."

"That is so _immature_!"

Ginny paused, then said quietly, "I think it's funny."

"Oh, well, you might, since you're their sister and all, but I think it's very immature. They could burn the house down, for all they know! I doubt they did very well on their O.W.L.'s." Hermionie sat there, a small smirk on her face.

"Well, no, they didn't, but they're really smart!"

"You're just saying that because they're your brothers!"

"I am not! They just never apply themselves!"

"Well, what's the point of being 'smart' if they never apply themselves?"

"Not all people are like you, Hermionie. We don't all run around with books up our noses and play teacher's pet to every adult we meet."

Hermionie blinked. "Oh, well, then." She stood up, brushed off her pants, and walked to the door.

"Wait... Hermionie, where are you going?" Ginny stood up as well.

Hermionie stood, facing the door. Her hand lay on the handle. "No one wants a girl with books up her nose and a teacher's pet as a friend." With that, she opened the door and walked out.

Ginny was still for a moment, staring where Hermionie had just been. Shaking herself, she ran out into the hallway. Seeing the bushy-haird girl on the stairs, she called out.

Hermionie, however, was hurt. She wouldn't let anyone know that, of course - no reason bothering Mrs. Weasly about something that couldn't be fixed. She also knew that she was a bookworm and enjoyed knowing teachers well, but no one (besides Ron, and that was a different case) had ever mentionied it. That was just who Hermionie was. It was in her nature to obey rules. She loved reading, more than anything, and the satisfaction of knowing something that someone else didn't.

But such qualities made friends few and far between. Walking out into the garden, Hermionie listened to Ginny's footsteps as she raced down the steps. The two girls had become fast friends, to be sure, and they had talked about things Hermionie had never told Harry or Ron, or anyone else for that matter. For Ginny to throw that back in her face was painful.

_'I thought I could trust Ginny.'_ Hermionie wasn't aware of herself slowing down at a tree near the center of the garden. '_I guess... I guess I shouldn't have said that about her brothers._' Glad to have some organized thought to run across, Hermionie sat down at the base of the tree. '_She told me herself that she had a rather soft spot for her brothers, the twins especially. I'd act the same way - I did act the same way - when Ron insulted Crookshanks.'_ Sighing, Hermionie noticed for the first time that Ginny was sitting next to her. Taking a deep breath, Hermionie said:

"Listen, Ginny," and at the same time, Ginny said, "Hermionie, look..."

Both stopped, looked at each other, and grinned half-heartedly. "You first," Ginny said.

Hermionie nodded. "Listen. It's my fault. I shouldn't have said all of that about Fred and George, I mean, if they really want to do that, and I shouldn't have blown up at you -"

Ginny held up a hand. "No. I shouldn't have said that about you. I didn't mean it, I just got upset. Red hair and all, bad temper." She lifted a bit of her hair to show Hermionie.

"No, Ginny, really, it's my fault."

"No, it's mine, so stop blaming yourself, Hermionie!"

"It's my fault, Ginny, quit shifting the blame!"

"No, you two, it's my fault." Both turned to look at Bill, who was sitting in a branch above their head. "_I_ threw that acorn at you, Ginny, last night, when you were in the shower. Though," he added as an afterthought, "you should have closed that window."

He turned to Hermionie. "And I must admit, I shoved you as you ran out of the doorway, so that you would run into Ginny..." He grinned a rather attractive smile.

Ginny stood up, brandishing a stick she had picked up from the ground. "Why, you... Get your butt down here this minute, Billius Weasly, before I make you!" Hermionie stood also, catching onto the Weasly spirit, and picked up a rock.

"I nearly hit Fred this morning, and I was half asleep," she cried.

"And you know how good a Chaser I am," Ginny said as she picked up a rock.

Bill's eyes widened. "Ah, gee, you guys - girls - I was just trying to get you to stop fighting!"

"You have three seconds to get out of there before you suffer our wrath," Ginny stated.

"Gin-gin, I didn't think I'd actually hit you with the acorn -"

"Two seconds," continued Hermionie.

"Not you as well! It was just -"

"One second," Ginny went on.

"Ah, Ginny, Hermionie, you can put those -"

"ATTACK!" Both girls launched their rocks at Bill; Hermionie's hit him in the gut, but bounced off without causing harm. Ginny's, however, hit Bill in-between the eyes, causing him to loose his balance and fall off of his branch. Ginny took the opportunity to launch herself at her brother.

"Hermionie, help me!" Hermionie hesitated for only a second before joining Ginny on the ground. "He's deadly ticklish in the stomach and at the armpits!" Without hesitation, both started tickling Bill.

"Gah! Gin-Ginny, please... ha, ha... stop... ha, ha, ha... p-please..."

"Say it..."

"No! No! N-n-ha, ha, ha...oh, ok, ok! Ginn-hehe-y..."

"And Hermionie!"

"...an-nd... ha, ha, Her-mi-i-ha-oh-knee-ha... are... ha, ha, ha...the...mo-o-ha-st...ha, hehe, ha, beaut-ha-ful-ha,ha... gir-ha-ls... in...hehe... ha, ha, ha! Theworld! Ha, ha, ha..."

Grinning, Hermionie and Ginny stopped tickling the eldest Weasly brother. Bill lay between them, gasping for breath and doubled over, a slight smile still on his face from lauging so much.

A slight shadow spread across all three of them. "What are you all doing?" Charlie, Ron, Fred, and George were standing next to them, looking down.

Bill pointed his finger at each of the girls. "They attacked me!"

George, or Fred, gasped. "Treacherous girls!"

Charlie smiled wickedly. "This crime must be punished."

Ginny and Hermionie both stopped smiling. "Hermionie..." Ginny started, but was cut off by Ron's cackle.

Just as Fred and George lunged forward, Ginny shreiked. "RUN!" Both girls tore off towards the house, the boys hot on their heels. They whooshed by Mrs. Weasly, who was cleaning up after lunch, whizzed by Mr. Weasly, who was just coming home after his Ministry job (he had to work overtime for money for schoolbooks and such), and thundered up the steps. Percy made the mistake of popping his head out of the door, and was just about run over by the stampede that was the Weasleys plus one Granger.

"Oy, that's _my _room," cried Ron as Hermionie and Ginny ran up the next staircase. He didn't protest any further, however, for next moment his door was shut and locked in his face.

Panting, Fred and George hurled themselves at the door.

"It's no use," called Ginny from behind the door. "I've barracaded it with Ron's bed! You'll never get in!"

Hermionie lay in the middle of the room, breathing heavily. "Is life around here always like this?"

Ginny turned and sat down next to Hermionie. "It only gets worse. This is Percy on a _good_ day."

Hermionie sat up and looked at Ginny. "You're kidding."

"Nope."

A slow smile blossomed on Hermionie's face. "Just wait until Harry gets here."

Ginny smiled, as well. "Chaos. Pure and total chaos."

* * *

**A/N: Ok, I don't know if Hermionie really hates mushrooms. But otherwise, I hope I've stayed pretty close to how Rowling would have the characters act. This was a really fun chapter to write after I got past the beginning hump. The second part should be coming out within the next day or so! Enter Harry! Woot! **

**Have a Happy New Year, everyone!**


	4. Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes II

**Disclaimer: I can dream, can't I?**

A/N: Sorry I'm a bit late with what I said the update date would be... Moony and Padfoot stole me and wouldn't give me back until today... 48 hours straight of Marauders... Oh my... Well, here you go!

* * *

Chapter Four: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Part II

Hermionie and Ginny spent a good hour or so holed up in Ron's room, chatting, cleaning clutter so Harry didn't die from all of the junk in Ron's room, and sharpening their aim with whatever they could find.

"So... Ginny?"

"Yes?"

"Do you still like Harry?"

Ginny turned a deep red. "No! I mean, it was just a silly crush, all those years ago, and-"

Hermionie smiled. "Relax. Payback for the Ron comment."

Laughing uneasily, Ginny returned, "I'm glad you don't like Ron. Honestly, it would be odd for one of my close friends to start dating my brother." Hermionie nodded quickly.

A few minutes later, Ginny asked if Hermionie was excited about the World Cup. Hermionie, knowing Ginny's love of the sport, tried to be gentle in telling her that she herself could care less for the sport.

"Yes, I am, if just to see what professional Quidditch is like." Hoping to steer the conversation away from the topic of the game. "Do you know when Harry's coming over?"

Ginny responded immediately: "Five o'clock."

Hermionie checked her watch. "We have three hours until he gets here. How do you want to kill the time?"

Both thought for a moment. "We could... attack Ron."

"Nah. We'd permanently maim him."

"True."

Another brief pause, then Ginny said:

"We could play in the yard."

"What would we do out there?"

"Quidditch, tag, tig, tree -"

"Tig?"

Ginny nodded. "It's a game Charlie, Percy, and the twins made up to keep Ron and me occupied a long while ago."

Interested, Hermionie cocked her head. "How do you play it?"

"You see, it's kind of stupid. There have to be at least three people to play. You take a rock, and you toss it in-between the three of you." Ginny paused.

"Is that it?"

"No, hang on. I'm trying to figure out how to describe it." Hermionie gave a small 'oh'. Ginny continued. "The first person starts out by saying a sentence. Something like, 'Once upon a time, there lived a girl named Gara-goo-ley.' The name is usually really odd, because you have to say it off the top of your head."

Hermionie nodded, prompting Ginny to continue.

"Then the person who starts says 'Tig!' and passes the rock to someone else. They have to say whatever comes to mind. Then they say 'Tig!' and pass it to whomever. But, you have to tell a story. If you don't, or if you take too long, you have to act out a scene from what's happened so far." Ginny smiled, reminiscent. "Oh, the stories get so odd... It's great to watch someone act it out, but pure torture to act yourself."

"Why is that?"

Now, Ginny was laughing. "Why? Once, I had to pretend I was riding a newt to the great castle of Sizzle-frazzle, while singing the Hogwarts theme song and brushing my teeth."

Both girls laughed. "That must have been the twins' doing," Hermionie guessed.

Ginny shook her head. "No, actually; it was Ron's. He had said something about the great Chula dying because he got hit in the head by a cheese curl or something of the sort. What was I supposed to say to that?"

Another hour passed with the two talking about what Ginny could have said, and a few trial runs of the game, which resulted in much laughter, even more sock-throwing (one of Hermionie's, mind you), and Ginny acting out being run over by a stag with headlights and Hermionie stating that Queen Juju had royally passed a decree that large, black dogs were not allowed to eat pizza on Wednesdays.

Hermionie checked her watch again. "Two hours until five. You want to go out?"

Nodding, Ginny began pushing the bed away from the door. Hermionie got up and began pulling from the other side.

"Geez, what does Ron keep under his mattress? A ton of bricks?" Ginny grunted as she pushed.

"Hang on, I'll check." Both Hermionie and Ginny pulled the mattress away from the bed. There lay about ten books, covered in pink, and a flashlight.

"I was wondering where these went," Ginny cried, pulling out one of the books. It was titled: _The Very Secretive Diary of Ginny Weasley_.

"And what's this?" Hermionie asked as she pulled the mattress out further. Laying there was, indeed, seven bricks.

"What the...?" Both stared at the interesting discovery before putting the mattress back.

Pushing the bed a bit further, the girls were able to leave the room freely. Ginny then promptly tracked down Ron and thoroughly berated him for stealing her diary and reading it. Hermionie scolded him, quite annoyed, for having bricks under his mattress. Then Ginny tackled him. It was rather funny, really, to watch such a small girl jump onto the gangly boy's back and pull him down.

Yet another hour passed of actually playing Tig, followed by a broom-less game of something that was similar to Quidditch, but which required less skill and more of an ability to dodge flying projectiles. At four, the girls left the yard to let the boys play actual Quidditch. Hermionie was glad that Ginny gave up her broom to Charlie, meaning that Hermionie didn't have to play.

Heading up the stairs to their room, the girls found it turned upside-down. Quite literally. The bed was on the ceiling, the ceiling light was on the floor. Everything was anchored down (or up, depending on how you looked at it), including Hermionie's trunk and a rather unfortunate Crookshanks.

"Those bloody gits..." Ginny fumed as she stepped into her room. Hermionie followed, looking up. How the boys managed to do it, she had no clue, but she racked most of the doings up to Bill. Dragging her gaze from her cat to the ceiling (or floor, now), she spotted a small box. Walking closer, she realized that it was something oddly familiar...

"Ginny, come here. Look at this." Ginny walked over and gasped. There was Ginny's pink diary, the one Ginny had recently stolen from Ron. The front cover, however, read this:

_An hour it will take_

_For the jinx to break_

_And for all our sake _

_A door locked will it make._

_Your loving brothers,_

_Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, and Ron_

Ginny made an odd choking noise and ran to the door. It must have closed of its own accord; and sure enough, it was locked. "Arugh!"

"Well, it looks like we're stuck in here..." Hermionie sighed and sat on the ceiling light in the middle of the room. Crookshanks mewed.

Looking up at her poor cat, Hermionie smiled. "Sorry, Crookshanks. We're all stuck. But I promise, you can attack Ron all you want once we get out." Crookshanks mewed again and settled on the bed.

Ginny started pacing the room, fuming. "The nerve of those boys... this is worse than last week, and I thought it was impossible to top that... when I get my hands on them... just wait until school starts... hex the pants off 'em and then some..."

Hermionie just watched as her friend paced. It was going to be a long hour, she thought sadly.

Indeed it was, but the hour passed, and the room flipped back to normal. Hermionie and Ginny had been sitting on the ceiling when it happened; now, Ginny was sitting atop her dresser and Hermionie was sitting atop Crookshanks. The latter of the two girls squeaked along with her cat and stood up quickly; the former hopped down easily. Both moved toward the door and made to open it.

"It's locked."

"But it's been an hour!"

"Over an hour, really, it's a quarter 'till six right now."

Ginny began banging on the door. "Help, somebody! Percy? Bill? Charlie? Mum? Dad? Help!"

Hermionie ran to her trunk and opened it. Digging through her stuff, she eventually found a plastic ID card that she always took with her, wherever she went.

The red-headed girl turned as Hermionie approached the door again. "What's that?" As Hermionie began jiggling the card in-between the door and the frame, she answered.

"It's an old ID my mum made for me when I was five. I always carried it around when I was younger, because it was so neat to have, and I still do. And right now," she paused in her speech to give the card another shove; whether it was the magic or something else, this door was very difficult to open, "I am using an old muggle trick to get the lock to open."

"Are you sure it'll... work...?" Ginny trailed off as the door opened with a satisfying _click_. Hermionie stood, gave the door a quick nod before pocketing the card.

Turning to Ginny, she opened the door. "After you." Smiling, Ginny walked through the door frame, waited a moment for Hermionie, and then both walked down the steps. They entered the kitchen in a moment of silence. Scattered throughout the area were all of the Weasleys... plus one black-haired, green-eyed boy.

Both girls smiled happily, glad to see their friend, and Harry smiled back. Hermionie looked to Ginny just in time to see her turn red. Letting her mouth quirk into a half-grin, the fourth year tallied it up as proof that Ginny still, indeed, did have something for Harry.

Mrs. Weasly spoke again; she sounded, though Hermionie wasn't sure, like she was repeating herself. "Tell me _what_, Arthur?" Both girls winced slightly. Mrs. Weasley tended to be dangerous when she used that tone of voice.

"It's nothing, Molly," Mr. Weasley mumbled, "Fred and George just - but I've had words with them -" He was cut off by Mrs. Weasley.

"What have they done this time?" she cried. "If it's got anything to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes -"

Hermionie decided to save Harry from the rant that was about to come. "Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?" she inquired, hoping that the rather thick red-head would see what she was trying to do.

Apparently, he didn't. "He knows where he's sleeping - in my room, he slept there last -"

"We can all go," Hermionie stated, slowly, in hopes he was catching on.

"Oh. Right." _There we go,_ Hermionie silently cheered.

"We'll go too," said either Fred or George, but Mrs. Weasley snarled a command for them to stay put.

Harry and Ron edged their way out of the kitchen. Once they were past the doorframe, the group of four set up the stairs towards Ron's room.

As they climbed, Harry asked, "What's Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

Ron and Ginny both laughed in memory. Hermionie, however, kept silent. She remembered the argument she had had with Ginny on the topic. Biting her tongue, she kept her comments to herself. Half-listening to Ron's explanation, Hermionie let herself hum 'My Favorite Things' from the Sound of Music. After she had finished, she tried to figure out where Ron was in his telling.

"...She's furious at them, anyway. They didn't get as many O.W.L.'s as she expected." Tuning Ron out again, she began reciting Hogwarts: A History to herself. She didn't get very far, however, for Percy poked his head out of his door as they walked by.

"Hi, Percy," said Harry.

"Oh, hello, Harry. I was wondering who was making all the noise. I'm trying to work in here, you know - I've got a report to finish for the office - and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs."

Hermionie let herself a small grin as Ron responded. Apparently, Percy hadn't changed much since he left Hogwarts. Then, Harry asked what Percy was working on. Percy drew himself up and started going on about cauldrons; Ginny looked over to Hermione and they both sniggered.

Ron tried to stop Percy by making fun of him; that did nothing but encourage him to rant on even more. Before it went on too long, however, Ron shrugged and headed back up the stairs. Percy slammed his door shut, making Hermionie and Harry jump. The three of them followed Ron as they marched up the stair.

Getting to Ron's room, Ginny shut the door to Mrs. Weasleys' shouts. As Hermionie looked around, she realized that the room had changed quite a bit since she and Ginny had been there. There were now four beds instead of one, and it was rather precarious work moving around in the small space. There, also, was Pig (who must have been outside at the time of Hermionie's and Ginny's siege of the room), who was fluttering about in his cage like a maniac.

"Shut _up_, Pig," Ron yelled as he sat down on one of the beds. Harry edged in after him; Hermionie sat in a bed opposite Ron's and Ginny sat next to Hermionie. "Fred and George are in here with us, because Bill and Charlie are in their room," Ron said to everyone else. "Percy gets to keep his room to himself because he's got to _work_."

"Where did the twins sleep before?" Hermionie asked as she looked at the beds.

"They slept in Percy's room last night, but Percy kicked them out. They were back in their room today; Bill and Charlie must've not needed it." Ginny shrugged.

"Erm... why are you calling that owl Pig?" Harry asked to no one in particular.

"Because he's being stupid," Ginny stated from next to Hermionie. "His proper name is Pigwidgeon."

"Yeah, and that's not a stupid name at all," said Ron sarcastically. Ginny glared at her older brother. "Ginny named him," Ron furthered in explanation, "She reckons it's sweet. And I tried to change it, but it was too late, he won't answer to anything else." Hermionie looked at Ginny, who was smirking. Hermione grinned, bemused at the antics of the siblings. "So now he's Pig. I've got to keep him up here because he annoys Errol and Hermes. He annoys me too, come to that." Both Harry and Hermionie rolled their eyes, knowing that Ron was secretly glad that he had a new pet, no matter how annoying it was.

Ginny, however, wasn't about to back down, for Pig was just as much her owl as it was Ron's. "Well, you must like him better then me, seeing as you didn't lock him in an upside-down for an hour!"

"It wasn't my idea! Honestly, it was all Fred and George!"

"Sure it wasn't. Who else could get a hold of my diary?"

Harry looked at Hermionie questioningly; Hermionie just said, "Don't ask." Harry nodded. After listening to the two of them bicker some more, Harry turned to Hermionie again.

"Where's Crookshanks?"

Hermionie shrugged. "Either out in the garden, chasing gnomes - he's never seen any before - or hunting down Bill."

The two listened to the sibling's bickering for a few moments more. Harry, catching a lull in the argument, leapt in. "Percy's enjoying work, then?" he asked.

Ginny gave a small groan and laid on the bed, watching the players of the Chudley Cannons zoom around from poster to poster.

Ron gave a small, fake laugh. "Enjoying it? I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. _According to Mr. Crouch... as I was saying to Mr. Crouch... Mr. Crouch is of the opinion... Mr. Crouch was telling me..._ They'll be announcing their engagement any day now." So saying, Ron promptly went back to his argument with Ginny.

* * *

The next hour or so passed in the same manner; everyone herded out to the garden for a huge dinner, complements of Mrs. Weasly. Chaos abounded, Harry learned about the bedroom incident, Percy's apparent love of Mr. Crouch was flaunted about some more, and, as the night fell to a close, Harry was able to tell Ron and Hermionie the newest news about Sirius.

At nine, the entire crew was shepherded back into the house, in preparation for the World Cup the next day. As Ginny and Hermionie changed into their pajamas, Hermionie was forced to listen to a full-blown rant about Viktor Krum and how amazing he was. As the bushy-haired girl climbed into bed, she couldn't help but wonder what she had gotten herself into.

* * *

A/N: There you go! R&R, if you will! Just a simple hello will do! 


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